Extraordinary
by keep-turning-the-pages
Summary: Scott's a demon, and like all demons, he despises angels. But, when he meets Mitch, a sweet yet slightly devious angel, he thinks that maybe angels aren't as bad as they're made out to be. (Pentatonix. Scomiche. Superfruit.)
1. What To Expect of the Unexpected

Extraordinary

Chapter One: What To Expect of the Unexpected

Scott was late to class, and he knew it.

In a way, he was relieved: he wouldn't have to suffer through the 'introductions' that you always experienced at the beginning of a school year, where all of the students have to stand in a circle and say their names, favorite color, and whatever else the teacher comes up with. He figured college wouldn't be any different. But, he was still late, and he _really _didn't want to be.

He raced down the hallway in a desperate effort to find the apparently hidden chemistry classroom in the goddamned gigantic university, his huge, leathery wings flapping madly behind him.

He had always been proud of his wings. They were a true black – so black that they appeared a deep blue or purple in direct light – that faded into a midnight blue at the tips, which ended in small talons. They didn't have any scars or burns upon them: he had never really enjoyed the rough fights that his fellow demons liked, and his family didn't take the yearly trip to Hell. In fact, Scott wasn't really jealous when the other kids had bragged about meeting Lucifer himself – he was just another fallen angel, wasn't he?

Scott's tail was fashioned in a similar manner: black with a blue tip, ending in the incredibly cliché spike that humans added in their cartoons. Ugh, humans. Scott really didn't see the appeal of them.

Then again, most demons didn't. Angels, though, were another story. The angels bonded with humans more often than demons did, but it was still pretty unusual for a human to marry _any _form of the supernatural. Angels marrying demons, however, was unheard of. One might even say that it was unnatural.

Scott continued scurrying down the hall, the panic he had felt before now faded into a dull resignation. He wasn't going to be able to make it to class.

The halls were completely empty: everyone else seemed to have the entire university memorized and found their classes with ease. Scott snorted at them with some ferocity.

Taking the extreme emptiness of the corridor under consideration, Scott sat down onto the cool tile, setting his supplies – journals, pencils, pens, etc – beside him. He leaned back on his hands, enjoying the silence while it lasted. Which was not for very long.

He suddenly felt a slightly painful tug on his right wing, and an '_Ooof!_' of surprise was heard, accompanied by the sound of several items hitting the ground with dull _thunks._

"Um, _ow,_" Scott stressed, leaping to his feet and turning so that he could see his offender.

It was an angel, naturally.

The heavenly creature glared up at him with warm brown eyes from his place on the floor, scowling. Scott frowned at him. "You might want to watch where you're going, _angel._" He spat the last word out like it was the worst insult to be heard on Earth. Said angel raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps you shouldn't reside in the middle of the hallway, then."

The angel flared out his wings in his frustration with Scott, and for a moment, Scott was unaware of his surroundings.

The angels wings were, pardon, _fucking gorgeous. _They were a deep, chocolate brown, small black specks freckling the feathers. The feathers themselves were each individually tipped in black.

The angel snapped them against his back when he noticed Scott's staring, and began to scramble around for his books, which had scattered everywhere. "Why are you here?" Scott asked snidely, tone clearly indicating that he thought he was superior. "Classes started half an hour ago."

The angel gave him look that clearly stated that he thought Scott was an idiot. "I'm _late, _obviously. What were you doing, sitting in the _middle _of the _hallway?_"

Scott didn't feel like explaining his situation, so he instead settled for a simpler answer. "Just relaxing."

The angel didn't respond, and instead continued to shuffle around for his possessions, stuffing them all into a shoulder bag. Scott knelt down and began to help him, albeit begrudgingly. "I'm Scott," he started, feeling a little guilty.

"Mitch," the angel grunted.

They continued to hunt for stray pencils and pens in silence, until (finally) it appeared that all of the supplies had been picked up off of the gray and blue tile. Scott stood up, brushing off his wings and stretching, but Mitch remained on the ground, bent low and eyes scanning for an unknown object.

"Um, what are you looking for?" Scott asked, chuckling a little meanly.

Mitch didn't answer, and still continued to crawl across the floor, searching for something. Scott sighed, now a bit annoyed. "I _said: _what are you looking for?"

Mitch ignored him again. Scott slumped a little, his leathery wings drooping behind him. Mitch was clearly still upset with him. This meant Scott had to do one of two things: apologize and find out what the _hell _the angel was still looking for, or he could accept Mitch's silence as a dismissal and walk away.

Alright, the curiosity was killing him.

Scott took a deep, calming breath in preparation of what he was about to do. '_You're over reacting, Scott. It's just an 'I'm sorry.' You can do it, idiot.' _Scott thought. His entire body shuddered at the thought, and Mitch shot him a strange look as he shivered.

Scott ignored him and inhaled largely through his nose. _'Here we go.'_

"I – I'm sorry," he managed to choke out.

Mitch looked at him, surprised, before he noticed Scott's great pain in the apology. He grinned too wickedly to be anywhere near angelic. "Sorry for _what, _exactly?"

'_He's the Devil,' _Scott growled mentally. _'The wings don't even matter. He's the Devil trapped inside an angel's body.'_

"I think you know what I'm, er, _regretting._"

Mitch turned his gaze up at the ceiling and shrugged. "No, I'm afraid I don't."

Scott's eyes rolled skyward. "I am _sorry _for _tripping you, _therefore causing you to _fall_ and drop your things."

Mitch grinned genuinely, and Scott was a bit taken aback from its radiance. Damn angels. Mitch turned back to scanning the floor. "You're forgiven," he told Scott in a soft tone.

Scott rolled his eyes. "Please, no chick flick moments."

He couldn't see his face, but Scott was absolutely _certain _that Mitch was rolling his eyes.

He stood there, awkwardly, watching Mitch crawl around on the floor, his feathers rustling slightly from the movement. Scott's own wings gave an irritated flap. "What are you even _looking _for? We've gotten everything!" he nearly cried in his exasperation.

Mitch turned around to look at him, red dusting his cheeks lightly.

'_He is not adorable he is not adorable he is _not _adorable – okay, goddammit, he's adorable. But that doesn't mean anything.'_

"I'm, uhm, missing a pen," Mitch said, blushing harder. Scott raised an eyebrow. "O_kay, _just leave it; I'll get you another one."

Mitch's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "A _demon _offering to do something _kind? _The world must be ending!"

Scott scowled. "No, trust me, this is for my own benefit."

"How so?"

"Er – nothing that concerns you."

Mitch shook his head and set back to work. Scott took a step toward him. "Did you hear me? I offered to buy you a new one, just leave it."

"Um, no. I mean, this pen is sort of, uh, _special._" Mitch's already crimson cheeks deepened in color. Scott was rather amused.

"And how is this pen 'special'?"

"It's my, erm, lucky pen."

Scott laughed, and ignored the obvious cuteness that Mitch presented himself with. There was _no possible way _that Scott found an angel attractive. "Dude, I'll just get you a new – wait, is this it?" Scott stooped down towards the floor and plucked a green gel pen off of the tile, holding it up for Mitch to see. Mitch's wings slumped in relief.

"Yes, thank you."

"I don't see why you have such a serious attachment to a pen, but, to each his own," Scott taunted. "Just, please, inform me when the wedding is. I would _love _to be there."

Mitch glared up at him as he snapped his bag shut, the pen safely inside, with more force than necessary. "Well, it sure was _lovely _to meet you, Scott, but I have to get going." Sarcasm dripping off of every word, Mitch was already heading down the long hallway, his back to Scott.

Scott was a little irritated by the sarcasm, and shouted after him, "All right! See you later, Shortie!"

He held back a bout of laughter as Mitch's huge wings gave a flutter of indignation at the insult. As soon as Mitch's retreating back disappeared down the hall, Scott turned back to where his stuff lay, silence now pressing against his ears. He was maybe just a _little _bit lonely without company.

In the end, Scott decided to just forget about the class and explore his new dorm room, and to meet his roommate (he crossed his fingers for a nice, devilish demon).

Naturally, he got the unexpected.

After he had spent _ages _trying to locate room 221 in the B building (seriously, was this place a maze?), he had expected to jump onto his bed and set up his section of the room, maybe catch a little shut eye. Unfortunately, that is not what he received as his welcoming present.

Instead, when the dark door labeled '221B' in gold swung open, he was greeted with obnoxiously loud Queen music playing, and a bearded man was lounging on the couch. Scott scowled; this wasn't cool.

"Hey!" he said loudly, slamming the door shut behind him to increase the startling effect. The man jumped up, a smile already on his face. Scott narrowed his eyes – where were his _wings?_

"Um, hi," the guy said awkwardly. Scott noted, with annoyance, that the dude hadn't even bothered to turn down his aggressively _eighties _music. "You must be the new roommate," the guy continued. Scott didn't respond. For a while, there was an extremely awkward silence stretching between them.

He was _human. _

This didn't make any sense whatsoever. This was a school especially designed for demons and angels _only – _no humans had been included in the mix. In Scott's eyes, humans were only a little higher than angels on the social ladder. Only a _little. _

"I said, 'hello'," his very _human _roommate said, annoyance coloring his tone.

"You're a human," Scott informed him, raising an eyebrow in disgust.

The guy shot him a look. "Yes, and you're a demon. The world is just _full _of surprises today."

Scott scowled at the human's mocking tone. "You're not allowed here."

The guy rolled his eyes. "Nice to meet you too. The name's Kaplan. Avi Kaplan."

Scott narrowed his eyes at Avi's cheesy antics and reluctantly said, "Scott Hoying."

Avi raised his eyebrows and nodded, grabbing a thick book from his nightstand and plopping down on his bed, burying his nose into what was apparently a very riveting tale.

Scott glared at him for a while before falling onto his own bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. College was proving to be a little different than what he'd originally thought.

Scott awoke with a jolt to his alarm clock, his fairly pleasant dream (full of hell fire and torture) dissipating quickly. He groaned loudly and buried his face into his pillow, trying to ignore his blaring alarm. He vaguely heard a deep voice from across the room mutter, "Shut up."

He ignored his roommate and tried desperately to fall back asleep, but to no avail; his alarm clock's incessant beeping was keeping him from accomplishing his goal. So, half asleep, he climbed out of bed to get dressed for the day, struggling to get his wings into the wing-holes in his shirt, not for the first time. He glared at the sleeping form of Avi on his way to the bathroom.

Unlike the chemistry classroom, he had no trouble getting to the English room.

He was actually pretty early to class, which was a shock to him, Satan, and who knows who else. Only a few students sat at the tables, talking quietly. Scott was just about to seat himself at the table nearest to the door (to escape easier, if things go amiss) before the teacher cleared his throat loudly.

"You won't be sitting there, Mr. Hoying. I've put you up there along with Mr. Grassi," he said kindly, pointing to one of the tables in the back of the room. His voice was rough and gravelly, and admittedly pretty sexy.

Scott shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Whatever, gorgeous."

The teacher narrowed his eyes and him and tilted his head to the side, similar to a puppy. "I ask you to treat me with respect, Mr. Hoying."

Scott's eyes rolled skyward. "Okay, whatever, Mr. Novak."

Mr. Novak rolled his shockingly blue eyes, and Scott just barely caught his mutter of "_Demons," _under his breath.

Scott flung his bag onto the table and spun around, curious as to why the teacher would have said that. When Mr. Novak turned his back to the class to write something on the blackboard, the answer was very clear.

A pair of big, fluffy black wings were folded against his back, the feathers fluffed up and messy, just like his dark hair. Of course he was an angel. It was just Scott's luck.

Scott snorted at his the state of disarray his teacher's wings were in and kicked his feet up to rest on the table, leaning back against his chair and folding his arms behind his head to complete the look. He instantly sat up when Mitch, the angel he had met the previous day, walked in, looking rather nervous.

"Um, Mr…?" Mitch asked the teacher.

Mr. Novak smiled. "Novak," he finished kindly.

Mitch nodded. "Mr. Novak, uh, where do I sit?"

Scott tuned out the conversation, already bored with it, until he watched Mr. Novak point up towards him, saying, "—over there with Mr. Hoying." Mitch instantly frowned upon seeing his new classmate, and continued to look displeased the entire journey to his chair next to Scott.

Scott grinned mockingly at him. "Nice to see you again, Mitch."

Mitch ignored him as he sat his stuff down, pulling out a spiral notebook and several different colored pens. Scott observed him with interest as Mitch organized the pens until they were all in a straight line, in rainbow order, and opened up the notebook. Mitch glanced up at the blackboard, jotting something down. Scott noted that Mitch's handwriting was lovely; it was slanted and curvy, almost like cursive. But, Scott assumed that all angels had lovely handwriting, because it just seemed right.

Scott looked up at the board, and seemed to deflate. "Oh, come _on, _there's a focus? I thought those ended in high school!"

This got a response out of Mitch. "_Yes, _of _course _there is. It's not like college is a school or anything, right? We just laze out, doing nothing, very similar to what we like to do in the _hallway," _he snapped.

Scott raised his eyebrows at Mitch's outburst. "Geez, dude. I was joking."

Mitch looked shocked. "I'm sorry, that was actually really rude of me. I'm just grumpy, I guess." Even Mitch looked unimpressed at his excuse.

Scott snorted and rolled his eyes and the angel's behavior. "Yeah, whatever, Featherbutt." He was well practiced in the art of denying apologies. It was his second nature.

Mitch glowered at the derogatory nickname, but didn't say anything, instead focusing on Mr. Novak as he started the class. Scott smirked. _'Maybe angels aren't so bad.'_

Scott was immediately horrified that he had allowed that one thought to even cross his mind. Angels were horrible. It was in his nature to hate them. '_But maybe Mitch is different._'

Scott smothered the thought and stamped it down. There was _no way _he liked the heavenly creature. No. Way.

He was just glad that angels couldn't read minds. Because a demon liking an angel… well, that was impossible.

0o0

**Hey, so this is a new story! I have posted the second chapter, because this one was technically already posted on Testing… Testing.. One, Two, Three, even though it was only a rough draft. Otherwise, I'll be posting on Sundays.**

**Ill also do this thing where I slip in a character or reference to another fandom in here, and if you guess, you'll get a free virtual cupcake and fun GIF of the fandom! So, go guess, my sweets!**

**~turn-the-pages**


	2. Humans and Demons and Angels, Oh My!

Extraordinary

Chapter Two: Humans and Demons and Angels, Oh My!

On the morning of the second day of classes, Scott was rudely awoken by obnoxious laughter echoing from the kitchen. It appeared as though Avi had invited someone over. He was proving himself to be more of a douche-bag each day.

Scott thought briefly about yelling at them, decided he was too tired, and tried to go back to sleep and ignore them.

They only seemed to get louder.

He turned (more like flopped dramatically over) so that his back was turned on them, and even buried his head underneath his pillow. It worked, but, he was unfortunately forced to resurface after discovering that the pillow was suffocating and he indeed required air to live.

So, this plan foiled, he simply shut his eyes and tried desperately to return to the bliss of unconsciousness. Apparently, closing his eyes increased to volume of Avi and his friend, and it was impossible to sleep.

This was around the point when Scott started to get angry.

The final straw was when Avi's friend let out another bout of loud, shrieking laughter. He sounded like a goddamned _banshee. _Scott's head popped up, his blonde hair sticking up at odd angles, and he shouted, relieving his feelings. "Will you guys _shut up?_" he yelled in the direction of the kitchenette. "It's like, eight in the morning!" he reasoned, snuggling back into his covers when the response was a deafening silence. "Thank _you,_" he muttered to himself, fluffing his pillow back up.

Then, Avi spoke. "Scott, it's almost noon."

Scott froze in the middle of fluffing, his head turned towards the kitchenette. The _human _(Scott still shuddered when he remembered he was _rooming _with one) had to be pulling his tail. "_What?_" he said in a tone that suggesting he would skin Avi alive if he was lying.

He could _feel _Avi rolling his eyes. "It's noon, not eight. Don't you have class soon?"

"Yes!" Scott half-screamed, popping out of bed as if it were _comfortable. _No demon wanted _that. _He darted to the dresser, taking a t-shirt out at random and tugging it on. Naturally, his wing got caught in the wing-hole. (It was his left. It had a knack for this sort of thing.)

He twisted and turned desperately, but to no avail. He finally just twisted his body so that he could grab his wing and yank it out. By then he was breathing rather heavily, half out of anger and half out of exercise. He pulled his jeans on and glanced at the bathroom, tail whipping in anxiety. There would be no time for the usual shower-and-gel routine. Deodorant and a quick comb-through would have to suffice.

After he deemed himself decent enough, he went straight for the kitchenette, eager for a good, strong cup of coffee.

Once he had entered the kitchenette and observed his surroundings, his wings flared out in surprise and agitation. There was an _angel _sitting at the table, a smirking Avi placed right beside him.

He growled. _Growled. _"You have _got _to be kidding me," he snarled, grabbing a coffee cup out of the cabinet so roughly that the others just rattled around, threatening to fall. "He isn't even a _normal _angel."

It was true. The angel, instead of having just two wings, he had _four. _Fucking _four _wings, goddammit. It looked _weird. _

The angel didn't even have the courtesy to look offended by his comment. He just merely smiled, amused at Scott's behavior. He was basically _glowing _with holiness.

Scott scowled at him, so angry that smoke might have well have been coming out of his ears. He slammed the button on the coffee pot, waiting impatiently for it to make the stupid coffee.

Avi then deemed it a good moment to introduce Scott and the angel. As if Scott _cared. _

"Scott," the bearded man said, clearly getting a kick out of Scott's bad mood. "This is Kevin. Kevin, this is Scott."

They watched as Scott pulled the coffee pot off of its holder violently, pour himself a cup, and down it all in one gulp. "He's not a morning person," Avi added as Scott dumped the mug in the sink.

Kevin's wings puffed up in surprise at the loud noise it caused. Scott noted that they were a glossy black, brown at the tips, and were carefully smoothed down and well cared for, unlike Mr. Novak's. He also couldn't help but think that they weren't as pretty as Mitch's, either.

He mentally slapped himself. Comparing the angels' wings was stupid and a waste of time.

"Hello, Scott," Kevin said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over the three.

"Ugh," Scott groaned in response, grabbing his hoodie and backpack and exiting the dorm, running down the hallway towards his next class – theater.

0o0

He finally made it, panting, to his class. Luckily, he wasn't late.

The bell might have rung as soon as he had stepped foot into the classroom, but he was not late.

After he finished praising Satan for his stroke of luck, he surveyed his surroundings, finding a very odd but cozy classroom.

In fact, it was downright _unusual. _

Large, puffy beanbag chairs of different colors were scattered around in no particular order, except that they were all facing the small stage at the front of the classroom. Little wooden squares were placed in front of each beanbag, serving as what Scott assumed was an available writing surface. Thin textbooks sat at the side of each chair with a cheap, thin plastic mask that you could buy at a dollar store placed on top of them.

A teacher's desk sat in the corner of the classroom, and about one million books were placed on shelves that lined the walls of the room. Posters of Broadway shows such as _Phantom of the Opera _and _Wicked _were plastered on the walls, so that you couldn't see what color they were painted.

Scott wandered towards the nearest empty beanbag, a blue one, and plopped himself onto it, admiring at how it didn't explode upon impact.

He stared around some more, amazed at how far the teacher had gone in decorating, until a voice startled him out of his thoughts.

"Hey!"

His head whipped around, bewildered, to find a demon girl in a yellow beanbag smiling at him. He frowned, suspicious. No demon was that happy.

He decided to be polite, for the Hell of it.

"Hi."

She watched as he picked up his plastic mask and held it up to his face. The mask's white features were twisted into a suffering expression. "Is this supposed to represent my feelings upon being here?" he asked snarkily.

She giggled and lifted her own mask up to her face. This one looked like it would frolic through a field of flowers and rainbows and crap.

'_How fitting,' _he thought sardonically.

"I think they're supposed to represent the genres of theater. Like that symbol you see everywhere," she told him He smirked. "Of course. I'm Scott."

She grinned. _'Again,' _Scott thought mournfully.

"You can call me Kirstie," she said cheerfully.

"You ready to face this class, Kristie?"

She laughed and shook her head. "It's _Kirstie, _like 'thirsty' with a 'k'."

Interesting metaphor for her name.

"Oh, sorry, _Kirstie._" Scott raised his sad mask to his face to convey his feelings to her. Kirstie smiled at him and opened her mouth to say something else, but the teacher had begun speaking.

The teacher was… _also _odd.

"Alright, class!" she greeted, clapping her hands together. "I'm Miss Day, your theater teacher. Sorry, kids, but we're not doing theater today! I've got a little activity for you guys to do—" Everyone groaned in unison. "—It's fun, don't worry. Here's what you're going to do: take a look at your mask. I see everyone has already noticed them. If you have a sad face," Miss Day pulled an especially dramatic tortured expression. "Then you have to find a happy face to balance it out! If you have a happy face, then vice-versa! Once you find your partner, come up to me to get a list of items. We're doing a scavenger hunt!"

Scott but back another groan. A scavenger hunt, really? Were they in the third grade?

He made eye contact with Kirstie immediately, glad that he had gotten to know someone else before class had started. He didn't want to be the one kid that the teachers has to find a partner for, or worse, the teacher _is _their partner.

"Let's go get the list," he said, sounding like they were in a James Bond movie. Kirstie stood up and laughed, her red wings flapping along with her chuckles, the black spots on them seeming to multiply with the motion. Scott rolled his eyes at her behavior and grabbed her hand, dragging her towards Miss Day.

By the time they reached her the rest of the class had only just begun to shuffle reluctantly out of their beanbags, unwilling to be social with their classmates.

Miss Day looked absolutely delighted when they approached her. "Somebody's going to win!" she said enthusiastically. "Now, does at least one of you have a phone?"

Simultaneously, both Kirstie and Scott dug their phones out of their pockets and raised them up for the instructor to see. Miss Day smiled widely. "Excellent! Here are your lists," she handed them each a brightly colored piece of paper. "Take a picture of the item once you find it, okay?"

Scott and Kirstie both nodded and turned, ready to begin. "Wait!" Miss Day called to their retreating backs. Scott turned around, sighing impatiently. "What?" he said rudely. Miss Day didn't seem to notice or care about his disrespectful tone.

"There's a prize. If you guys are the first to get all twenty items first, you both get a giant Hershey's candy bar!" She said it as if it were the best thing to ever happen to anyone ever. Kirstie just nodded, "That's… _great,_" she said, before dragging Scott off.

Despite Kirstie's lack of enthusiasm, Scott was ready to win a candy bar, if only to see everyone else's faces when they discovered that their candy winning dreams were crushed. Perhaps he was a bit to into this, but, he's allowed to be excited for _some_ things.

"We're going to win us some candy," Scott exclaimed.

Here are some of the not-so-excited things that came out of the demons' mouths.

"A TARDIS? What the Hell is a TARDIS?"

"An elephant? I guess she means a pot or something?"

"Shit, that candy bar had better be good."

"What'd you mean, it's over _there?_"

Unfortunately, the end result was not the one Scott had been expecting. They were not the ones to find everything first, due to Scott's stubbornness that a TARDIS was simply not fair, since who in Hell knew what that was?

The fact that a pair of angels had won was like rubbing salt into an open wound.

"Freaking angels," Scott muttered crossly to Kirstie, who was stuffing things in her bag.

"Scott, it's just candy," she said before walking out of the room, Scott running to catch up to her.

"Yeah, but it was _good _candy!" he whined. He may have been being immature, but c'mon, it was _candy. _Kirstie just rolled her eyes in response. Scott decided to drop the topic.

"Where are you going next?" Scott asked instead, still fuming slightly about the scavenger hunt results.

She perked up at the change of topic. "Ugh, _math,_" she said, adjusting the strap of her shoulder bag. "The teacher there isn't just a demon, he's the _Devil._" There was a silence. "Or so I've heard," she added nonchalantly.

Scott laughed. "I seriously doubt that Lucifer is teaching Algebra, Kirst."

She looked surprised at the nickname, but then grinned. "So, what do _you _have next?"

He sighed. "English. Mr. Novak's too nice for his own good. He won't even _yell. _He just does this weird thing where he looks kind of like a kicked puppy and then you feel horrible and stop. Which that in itself is weird, because demons are _supposed _to like kicking puppies, ya know?"

Kirstie shrugged. "I like Mr. Novak. He's sweet."

Scott looked at his new friend, appalled. "How are you a _demon?_"

She just looked at him and laughed. "Here's my stop. Good luck dealing with Mr. Too-Nice-For-His-Own-Good!"

He glared at her until she was in the classroom, and basically ran to English.

_That _classroom was in a different building entirely.

0o0

Now, he _was _late to English.

He burst into the classroom, interrupting Mr. Novak in the middle of a sentence.

"I'm glad you could join us, Mr. Hoying," he said, nodding to Scott as he hurried towards his seat, where Mitch was smirking at him. "I'll let you get by this time," Mr. Novak warned, before going on about some new project they would be getting soon.

"Hello! It's _so _nice to see you," Mitch said quietly as Scott sat down, sarcasm dripping off of every word. Scott smiled sweetly at him before fishing out his notes and a pen, taking off the cap with his teeth.

"Ew," Mitch said, any meanness in him dissolving in that one moment. Scott smirked. "You have to do what you have to do, Featherbutt."

Mitch scowled at the nickname and swung around to face the front again, taking notes. After a few moments of silence between the two, Mitch said quietly, "I'd appreciate it if you would stop calling me that."

Scott frowned. "Why?"

Mitch shot him a look out of the corner of his eye. "Because it's rude."

"And why would I care?"

Mitch looked like he'd been stung, and Scott regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Which was weird, because he'd never felt that way before. God, what was Mitch _doing _to him?

"I'm sorry." The words stuck in his throat, but he had managed to force them out.

Mitch examined his face. Scott must have passed whatever test he was put under, and Mitch gave him a big smile. "You're forgiven."

Scott squinted at him, suspicious. "What? No teasing?"

Mitch gave him an – he hated this – adorable half smile. Scott's heart may or may not have melted a little bit. "Because you didn't really gain anything from apologizing, this time."

Scott was… well, he didn't know how he felt about the short angel sitting beside him. He didn't _hate _him, and that by itself was a major warning sign to cut all ties with the heavenly creature. But, he didn't want to.

Mitch was now focusing on Mr. Novak, and Scott tuned in to the instructions he was giving out for a small activity.

"I want you to think of your favorite character from something, as long as they have a personality. Then, I want you to write a short character study about your character, including their flaws, their good qualities, and their goals. Get to work!" Mr. Novak clapped his hands in a 'chop chop!' manner and went back to his desk, taking out his phone and smiling at something.

Scott smirked. "Looks like someone has a little lover," he said airily, jabbing a thumb at the now grinning Mr. Novak, who was typing something on his phone.

Mitch glared at him. "Stay out of his business, Scott."

Scott was taken aback at how smoothly his name exited Mitch's lips. He would have expected an insult, or his last name. But not his first.

He shook it off and said, "Anyway, I think I'll do Spongebob."

Mitch's head shot up so fast Scott feared he'd get whiplash. "_I'm_ doing Spongebob," he said in wonder, brown eyes meeting blue ones. Scott broke the eye contact (it was beginning to feel like eye-sex, and he didn't need that) and his gaze rolled skyward. "We like the same show, big deal. It's not like we're identical twins or something."

Mitch looked away from Scott and blushed, hard. "I've already started, so you have to pick a different character. We can't do the same one."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because."

Scott decided to avoid another argument with Mitch and accept his reasoning, deciding to write his character study on Sherlock Holmes from BBC's Sherlock, instead. That was also a fabulous show.

They worked in silence.

Scott's attention kept wandering away from his paper and instead focusing on Mitch. Who knew that his tongue poked out a little when he was concentrating? Scott continuously ripped his gaze away from the angel, but his eyes kept wandering back to him. He was in such a dilemma he only had three sentences written down when Mr. Novak walked up to the front to close the class.

"The character study is due tomorrow. Tomorrow you will pair up with your table partner and discuss how your two characters would interact, and then I would like you to write a short story about it."

A girl in the front raised her hand. "So we're basically writing fanfiction?"

Mr. Novak sighed. "Yes, I suppose we are. Now, I expect you guys to have finished—"

He was interrupted by a short rap on the doorframe, and everyone's head whipped around to find a _human _standing in the doorway, wearing a brown leather jacket and a smirk on his face.

"Cas, you almost done?" he said in a gruff voice.

The grin that had taken over Mr. Novak's face made _Scott _want to smile. The very thought made him gag.

"Yes, Dean. Have the study finished by tomorrow, please!" the angelic teacher called as the students stampeded out of the classroom. By now this 'Dean' had made his way to Mr. Novak, who was putting his laptop away in its case.

Scott, because the universe was out to get him, had spilled his pencil pouch and was hurriedly stuffing them back into it.

"Hurry up, Cas, we need to pick up Sammy for dinner."

"I know, Dean. One more thing."

There was a sudden silence, and as soon as Scott finished putting his utensils away, he looked up to find Mr. Novak and Dean kissing.

Oh. _Oh._

Scott yanked on his backpack quickly and high-tailed it out of the classroom. It wasn't _right _to see your teacher kissing someone. Even if it _was _cute.

Scott raced to his dorm room, desperate to find some peace and to get the thoughts of kissing a certain other angel out of his mind.

0o0

When Scott entered the dorm room, he expected peace and quiet. Maybe some eighties music and Avi lounging around, but that was peace compared to his day.

Unfortunately, he was greeted with four people talking animatedly, and rather loudly.

Two of these people happened to be Kirstie and Mitch.

Mitch happened to be sitting on _Scott's bed, _and that brought on too many thoughts to be comfortable for Scott. He preferred _none._

As soon as he stepped into the room, it was as if someone had pressed a mute button. Avi and Kevin looked confused, Kirstie's face lit up with a grin, and Mitch looked simply horrified. Scott was certain the same expression was mirrored on his own face.

"Hey, I didn't know you knew Avi!" Kirstie said gleefully. And without a word, Mitch leapt up from the bed and flew out of the room. They all stared after him. Scott felt a little hurt, but he wasn't surprised.

"What was that all about?" Kevin asked.

"We're in English together. We don't get along very well," Scott said wryly. _'But you were getting better,' _a small voice inside of his head told him. Scott quickly shut it out.

"Ah," Avi said wisely, as if this were a great revelation. "Mitch has always been a drama queen. Don't take it personally."

Scott snickered into his hand. He sat down on the bed, saying, "Do any of you watch Sherlock? I have this assignment…."

Avi immediately burst out talking about BBC's Sherlock, and Scott smiled to himself. Perhaps he could handle one human. And Dean seemed pretty cool too.

0o0

**And… end chapter! I can't believe I finished this all in one day! This one ran a little long, too… I'm really pleased. See you guys next Sunday! :D**

**turn-the-pages**


End file.
